


Lost Without You

by lovelarry10



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Harry is alone, Harry lets him go, Kissing, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Louis wants to travel, M/M, Pining, Sad Harry, Sad with a Happy Ending, They do not break up, backpacking, harry misses louis, travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/pseuds/lovelarry10
Summary: Louis wants to see the world. Harry tells him to go.





	Lost Without You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written on a whim, in about two hours. It was prompted by the song Lost Without You by Freya Ridings. Please listen to it, it's painful but beautiful. It inspired me to write this, and given I wanted to write a fic to thank you all for 200,000 hits on AO3... here we are!
> 
> I really hope you like it, I know it's sad but bear with it, please. I also know there isn't much dialogue compared to my usual writing, but this didn't call for it. I hope you love it as much as I do. Let me know your thoughts in the comments as always.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely friend Liz for telling me not to just delete this, to finish it, and for her encouragement to keep going.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support and love for my fic, as long as you guys keep reading, I will keep writing. Thank you, every single one of you. This is for you. x

_ Standin' on the platform _ __  
_ Watching you go _ __  
_ It's like no other pain _ __  
_ I've ever known _ __  
_ To love someone so much _ __  
_ To have no control _ __  
_ You said, "I wanna see the world" _ __  
_ And I said, "Go" _ __  
__  
_ But I think I'm lost without you _ __  
_ I just feel crushed without you _ __  
_ I've been strong for so long _ __  
_ That I never thought how much I needed you _ _  
_ _ I think I'm lost without you_

Harry let himself back into the flat with his key, gently setting it down on the little table he’d sourced at a boot sale back when living with Louis had just been a dream, something two teenagers in love plotted to do, unaware of the trials and tribulations of real life. His eyes felt raw, and he resisted the urge to wipe at them again, knowing it wouldn’t make anything any better, that he'd only cause himself more pain. His bottom lip wobbled at the sight of Louis’ key there, detached from its usual place on his keyring. It felt wrong, like Harry’s world had shifted on its axis, and he had no idea how to put it right.

That was a lie. He did know. But there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do that would take back the words he’d spoken just weeks ago, words that had granted Louis the freedom he so badly craved, that Harry hadn’t wanted to give him for purely selfish reasons. But still, he’d said them. He’d watched as Louis had sat at the laptop and booked his ticket, had sat on the end of their bed as he’d watched him pack his bag, folding and painstakingly stuffing as much as he could into the rucksack he’d bought for the trip.

He’d sat next to Louis on their sofa, cuddled together under a blanket as Louis flicked through the pages of the glossy guide book he’d bought the other day, creasing the corners of the pages that took his interest, eagerly pointing out things to Harry, who had just smiled and nodded along. He could only hope that smile was masking the breaking of his heart inside, that he was hiding his own hurt, sacrificing his own pain for Louis’ happiness.

It had always been that way. Harry lived for Louis, to make him smile. Always had. Ever since they’d met at high school aged thirteen, when Louis had moved into Harry’s town. Everyone was taken by the new boy, vivacious, full of life, with a smile that could light up a thousand rooms. He was like a magnet. Boys and girls alike were drawn to him, trying to befriend him, trying to make him laugh, to get him to join their team, or club, or just be their friend. But Louis had picked Harry. Since then, Harry had been gone for him.

Out of everyone in the whole school, Louis had chosen Harry. He’d slid in the seat next to him in the dinner hall one lunchtime, shoving his bag of crisps Harry’s way. That was enough. From then on, they didn't know how to work without each other. They were joined at the hip, spending every free moment together, watching TV, doing homework, Louis fruitlessly trying to teach Harry how to kick a football in the right direction. It was to no avail, of course, but Louis had never given up on him. Not once.

Harry sighed and stood his boots up next to each other, trying to ignore the absence of the Vans that usually sat next to them, kicked off into a heap. Nearly every day since they’d moved in together three years ago, Harry had got home, took his own shoes off and bent over to line Louis’ up next to his, always marvelling at how much smaller Louis’ feet were than his own. Slowly, he padded through to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, grabbing two mugs down without even thinking twice. He poured in the milk and added a teabag, waiting while the kettle boiled in the corner, plumes of steam rising up and disappearing into the air.

Harry poured boiling water into his own cup but paused when he realised what he’d done. It broke him. Again. He set the heavy kettle down on the worktop and wept. He folded his arms on the worktop and cried. Louis wasn’t gone for good. But a year was a long time. Harry had no one to blame but himself. He’d done this. He’d set Louis free. And right now, for the life of him, he couldn’t think why he would ever have chosen to do something so stupid. He cried for what felt like hours, straightening up only when the muscles in his back were screaming in protest, the milky water in the one filled mug entirely ruined. 

He shoved both mugs into the sink and retreated to bed, knowing there was no way he’d have an appetite tonight. He tugged his jeans off and collapsed into bed, the bed that would be only his for the next year. Hopefully not a day longer. But three hundred and sixty five days. It was a long time. He reached for Louis’ pillow and held it to his chest, relieved Louis’ scent lingered on it, his aftershave, the coconut scented hair wax he used, something that was so  _ Louis _ that Harry just couldn’t define it. His mind drifted off, remembering back a month ago, when Louis had first approached him, revealing his hopes and dreams.

_ ~*~ _

_ “I wanna go travelling.” _

_ “You wanna what? Why?” Harry’s brow furrowed as he wondered what on earth Louis was on about. Where had this come from? Louis wasn’t a traveller, not by nature. He often preferred nights at home in front of the telly with Harry over nights out at the club or pub with their friends. This seemed totally out of character but Harry sat back, folding his arms as he waited for a reply, curious to see where Louis was going with this.  _

_ “I wanna travel, Haz. I’m twenty two and I’ve never really seen the world. Not properly. National Geographic doesn’t count. I’ve got some money, from Mum’s inheritance. I know this is what she would have wanted me to do.” _

_ “Right. Uh… you know I can’t at the moment, yeah? Not with this Masters I'm doing, I can’t just drop it, not now.” He looked up and felt afraid all of a sudden. Louis’ hands were clasped in his lap, fiddling with his own fingers, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. “Louis? What is it you’re not telling me?” _

_ “I know you couldn’t come,” Louis whispered then, a blush setting in high on his cheeks, still refusing to meet Harry’s gaze. “I… I still want to go. Please. Please don’t hate me. Please.” _

_ “Louis, I… shit, I could never hate you. But.. are you serious? You really want this?” _

_ “I do.” Louis looked up then, and Harry could see the passion in his eyes, how much it meant to him. “I don’t want to leave you behind, but I want to see the world, Haz. Before I’m tied down with a job, and…” _

_ “Me?” _

_ “No! I want to be tied down to you, more than anything. But I feel if I don’t do this now, I never will. This isn’t about us, love. I promise you that. I just… I need to do this. For me. Do you understand?” _

_ Harry shrugged, not sure whether he should speak or not. He knew if he did, his voice would betray him. “Uh. I-” _

_ “Think about it, okay? If you really don’t want to me to go, I won’t. You mean too much to me for that. I love you too much. Come here.” He’d held his arms open and Harry had scooted along, falling into them easily, always the little spoon despite their size difference. _

It had only taken Harry three days to make a decision. He knew he couldn’t break Louis’ heart. He couldn’t dash his dreams for his own selfish wants and needs. Louis meant too much for that. He’d cooked Louis his favourite meal, and they’d sat in their comfy clothes at the table, eating and talking, everything entirely normal.

_ “God, you make the best food in the whole world, I swear.” Louis shoved another forkful of food into his mouth, humming happily around it, entirely unaware of Harry breaking inside, how hard he was having to hold back from bursting into tears at watching Louis do something so simple, something he’d seen him do every day. Louis looked up and smiled fondly over to Harry, taking his hand for a second. “You okay, love?” _

_ “Yeah,” Harry whispered back, releasing a shaky breath. “Lou?” _

_ “Yes, sweetheart?” _

_ “Ask me again.” _

_ “What you asked me the other day. Tell me again what you want. Please.” _

_ Louis pushed his plate to one side, a small frown on his face. He took Harry’s hand again, speaking softly, his beautiful voice wrapping around Harry’s ears like velvet, making him almost regret what he was about to say, what he was about to do for Louis. “I want to travel, Haz. I want to see the world.” _

_ Harry swallowed and clenched his free hand in his lap, fingernails digging into his palm, a small outlet for the pain ripping through as he spoke the words, the one destined to let Louis live out his dream… to leave him behind. “Then go.” _

_ Louis sat stunned for a moment, letting Harry’s reply sink in. “What? Are you serious?” _

_ “I want you to be happy, Lou. If this makes you happy… then go. See the world. But can I ask one thing of you?” _

_ “Of course, anything,” Louis said earnestly, shuffling his chair so he sat next to Harry, knees touching under their tiny table, just big enough for the two of them. “You can always ask anything of me, you know that.” _

_ “Just… come home? To me? Please?” Harry couldn’t hold back anymore, and it seemed Louis couldn’t either. His small arms came around Harry, holding him closely as he cried. _

_ “You’ll always be home, my home. Of course I’ll come back, I promise. Fuck, I love you so much Harry. You have no idea what this means to me, I just- thank you. Thank you so much.” They sat there, wrapped in each other and Harry knew that no matter how much this was hurting him, he’d made the right decision. Setting Louis free was what his boy needed, and if the freedom to be himself, to see the world would bring him happiness, Harry had to give him that. There was never really any doubt. _

Preparing for Louis to leave had been the worst. He’d watched as Louis had flitted about their small house, gathering his belongings, determined that he wouldn’t make any extra work for his boyfriend while he was gone. It was an odd feeling. Louis’ things were still littered around the house, as if he was going to walk through the door any minute and make more mess, as was his want. But he wasn’t. Not for another year. 

Harry sighed, glancing over to the coffee table. He smiled when he saw the messy stack of music magazines Louis had left the other day, abandoning a cleaning halfway through when he got bored, choosing to instead sit on the sofa in his boxers and not much else, picking at chords on his guitar. Harry’s annoyance had disappeared in an instant as Louis’ voice floated down the hallway, soothing him, settling deep in his bones. Louis’ voice was the most beautiful sound Louis had ever heard, and he knew he’d die a happy man if it was the last thing on Earth he ever got to hear.

~*~

It had only been three days. Three long, lonely days. Everyone at work had picked up on the fact something wasn’t right with Harry, that he was more quiet and withdrawn than normal. They knew Louis had left, that he’d gone travelling but no one had approached Harry about it, no one had asked him how he was faring without his other half, the other part of him. In some ways, Harry was grateful, sure he would crumble if one person showed him a jot of kindness. He felt constantly on the verge of tears, as if there was a dam inside of his body threatening to fail, one that would release his pain and grief into the world in an unstoppable barrage.

Harry felt like he was just going through the motions. He’d heard from Louis, had been sent pictures of his adventures so far, had spoken to him on the phone, unable to FaceTime thanks to the sketchy WiFi in the hostel he was staying in. Harry cringed whenever he thought of Louis crammed into a single bed, cold and alone. He belonged here with him, in their home, in their bed. In Harry’s arms. Harry hated that Louis was smiling, that his eyes were shining, that his skin already looked sun-kissed … that he was living life without him, that he was waking up every morning without the searing pain that Harry felt.

Harry had cried again last night. The television had recorded a new series Louis had set up before he’d left. Harry had excitedly tapped out a text to Louis without thinking, telling him he couldn’t wait to watch it with him. Louis’ gentle reply came soon after, reminding Harry he wouldn’t be able to watch it, that he should delete it and find something of his own to enjoy. It was just another jarring reminder that life was moving on, that the world was still turning. It was only Harry who was being left behind, stood still, watching life pass him by.

He was stuck in a vicious cycle of living without really experiencing life. He’d expected it to hurt, he’d expected to miss Louis terribly, but not in such a visceral way. Not in a way that hurt to his very core, to the point where he couldn’t function. Nine years… for nine years, Louis had been the centre of Harry’s world. Harry had brushed off the opinions of his parents, his other friends when they’d warned him he was getting too attached, that he needed to experience things without Louis, that their closeness was almost suffocating. He’d ignored them, certain that since he’d never have to experience any part of his life without Louis, it wasn’t a worry he had to entertain.

How wrong he was. And ironically, it wasn’t Harry who made a bid for freedom. It was Louis, the one person Harry had never dreamt would walk away from him. It hurt. It cut deep. To see Louis living his life, enjoying his time away, as if Harry wasn’t anything more than a memory… a contact in his phone to check in with every now and then. Harry had gone from security to… nothing. Emptiness home. Lonely heart. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the next 362 days. It stretched on, like a vast unending road, and day by day, Louis seemed further and further out of reach. The pain of missing him, though, was endless.

~*~

Three months. The pain was easing, slowly. Sometimes, it still hit Harry like a freight train that Louis was gone. But instead of a sharp pain that made him wince, that took his pain away, it was more a dull ache. Something he could now push aside, work through, rather than allowing it to eat away at him, to paralyse him to the point where he couldn’t move. 

Louis called every few days now. Harry had switched him over to another phone plan, one that gave him more free minutes abroad, so he could stay in contact. Time zones were tough. Louis was on the move a lot, and it was tricky for Harry to always remember how many hours ahead he was. Louis got confused, too. Harry was woken too many times by a blaring phone in the early hours of the morning, listening as Louis chattered excitedly, fresh from a long sleep, eager to discuss his day with a sleepy Harry. He’d fallen asleep on the line more than once, waking up to a text message from Louis, proclaiming his love, and apologies for his hopelessness with the world clock.

Work was going well. Harry had received a good bonus for scoring a particularly lucrative contract. He’d eagerly run out of the office on his lunch break, dialling Louis without thinking, excitement thrumming through his veins. He hadn’t answered. The phone had rung out, and Harry had left a voicemail, his voice dulled with the disappointment of not having his phone call answered. He needed Louis. He wasn’t there. As much as Harry knew he had to get used to it, that this was life for the near future, it wasn’t something he wanted to adjust to.

_ “Lou, it’s, uh, it’s me. Harry. Sorry, you’re probably busy, or sleeping or something. But I just got some great news, and as usual, you’re the only person I wanted to tell. So, yeah. Uh, I got that contract, with the Jefferson’s. Phil was really pleased, settled my bonus with me. I’m gonna treat us when you’re home, spoil you rotten. I miss you, Louis. So fucking much. I hope you’re having fun, my beautiful Lou. I love you. Speak to you soon, I hope?” _

Harry had sighed and headed off to the little park across from where he worked. He drifted around aimlessly for a while until he passed a familiar spot. He and Louis had often eaten here when they were in college together, scrimping and saving all their pennies to treat themselves to a shared Subway, arguing over the filling until Harry gave in as usual, letting a smug Louis get his own way. Louis made up for it with kisses and cuddles, with the way he held Harry’s hand proudly as they strolled down the street, with how well he loved Harry. 

The wood was slightly damp from the dew of the morning but Harry didn't mind. He swiped off a few errant bugs and blades of grass onto the floor and sat down gingerly, pulling up some photos on his phone that Louis had sent him late last night. Louis grinning, face covered in glow in the dark face paint, arm flung around a pretty blonde in some sort of club. Louis relaxing on the beach, an arm behind his head, eyes squinting in the bright sunshine. Louis posing next to a famous landmark, sticking his thumbs up at whoever was behind the camera. Louis curled up in bed, hair messy, the soft smile that Harry used to wake up every day.

He sniffed, ignoring the hungry growl of his stomach before he shoved the phone away. He thought again and pulled it out, snapping a photo of himself, making sure Louis would know where he was. He sent it off, adding a small caption added to the bottom of it, hoping Louis would understand, would know exactly where he was.

**_I told you to go, but that doesn’t stop me missing you. I always feel closer to you when I’m here. I love you. Xx_ **

He got to his feet, feeling weary and exhausted, despite the early hour of the day. He rested his hand on the back of the bench, mind flitting back for a moment to just a few years ago, when Louis had made it clear for the first time he and Harry were a forever kind of thing.

_ “So, I, uh… I got you something?” Louis said, looking out into the park in front of him, smiling at the sight of children running around, screaming and laughing at the top of their lungs, not a care in the world. Harry felt warm at the sight and tightened the arm that was wrapped around Louis’ waist, holding him close. He leaned and kissed the top of Louis’ head gently, inhaling the scent of his own shampoo, the one Louis always stole, always shrugging when Harry questioned him about it when the bottle ran out too quickly. _

_ “Yeah? You got me a present?” Harry grinned and Louis nodded, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small blue box, a white ribbon tied around it. “Oh, Lou…” _

_ “Don’t get too soppy.” He sat up and swung his legs around, crossing them in front of him, folding his legs like a pretzel. It was spring so there was a chill in the air, and Harry loved how it made Louis’ cheeks glow pink, making him more beautiful, if that were possible. “But yeah, I saw it and I couldn’t help myself, even though I know we promised not to spend any more money until we’ve decorated the lounge.” _

_ Harry laughed and nodded, accepting the box from Louis. With gentle yet trembling fingers, Harry unpicked the ribbon, tucking it into his pocket. He glanced up at Louis, smiling softly before he cracked open the lid, gasping at the item inside. Louis reached over and took the box back, pulling out the necklace, beckoning Harry closer. Louis got onto his knees and quickly undid the clasp, refastening it behind Harry’s neck, watching as it settled into place on his boyfriend’s chest. _

_ “Louis… it’s beautiful. But… why a paper plane?” _

_ “To remind me to always fly home to you. Because you’re where my heart always wants to land. Where I want to be. Next to you. Always. You’re… you’re it for me, Haz.” Louis was blushing again, and that did nothing to stop Harry pulling him into a kiss. Harry reached up and touched the silver charm as they kissed, Louis’ warm lips fitting perfectly against his as always. “I love you.” _

_ “I love you.” Harry returned the words easily, heart swelling with how Louis had insinuated that they were forever. It was everything, and Harry thought he’d never been happier. Him and Louis, a forever kinda thought. That was the sort of thought that settled happily in Harry’s heart. _

He lifted his hand from the wooden slat and pushed it deep into his pocket, starting the short walk back to his office. Before he crossed the road, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, eyes locking on the bench again. It felt weird he still had to wait for the summer to fully pass, for the leaves to fall off the trees, and the winter chill to set in and begin to pass once more before Louis was back in his arms. The seasons might change, but one thing Harry knew for sure? His love for Louis never would.

~*~

Harry watched out of his window, nursing a warm mug of tea as he looked out over the garden. Leaves were falling from the trees, spinning around on the breeze until they rested on the green carpet beneath, painting a colourful canvas on the floor. Red, oranges, yellows and browns mixed together perfectly, and Harry felt at peace somehow. Time was passing, the days were moving on, and somehow, inexplicably, getting easier to bear.

It had been six months now. Six long months since Harry had stood at the train station, waiting with Louis cuddled in his arms for the inevitable separation that was getting closer with every passing second. Although the pain was muted to soft ache in the pit of Harry’s belly, things had changed. Louis wasn’t as much as in contact as he had been. What had started out as daily phone calls and multiple text messages every day had slowly petered out, to just one, maybe two calls a week if Harry was lucky. Pictures were few and far between as well, and Harry hated how much he felt out of the loop he felt with Louis’ life. He’d changed too, from what Harry could see. He’d lost weight, his clothes hung from his body, and his skin was golden and tanned from the endless sunshine. His hair had lightened as well, but his eyes... his eyes remained the same. Harry clung on to that.

It was a Saturday morning, and Harry wanted to get outside, to be in the Autumn sunshine. He dragged on some comfy trousers and an old, worn but cosy hoodie, sliding his feet into his trainers. Mornings were still too quiet without the noise that inevitably followed Louis around their house, whether it was his music, his awful taste in television programmes, or his constant cursing when he was playing online on the X-Box with his work friends. Harry used to moan something chronic about those noises. Now, he’d give anything to have them back, to have Louis’ swear words filling his house, assaulting his eardrums.

He grabbed his keys and set off down the road, feet beating a steady rhythm on the grey slabs beneath him. As he walked, he snapped a few pictures, sending them to Louis as he did, a little running commentary of his morning. He was sure Louis wouldn’t look at them until later, or if he’d even reply or acknowledge them, but still, Harry carried on, hoping Louis would care. That wherever he was today, he was thinking of Harry as much as he was thinking about him. 

He stepped into the small bakery where he liked to walk to to fetch their morning breakfast, as a little treat for making it through the week. He joined the queue, humming to himself as he waited patiently, running his order through in his mind. An older gentleman in front of him dropped his wallet to the floor, coins rolling over the lino floor. Harry didn't hesitate to drop to his knees, collecting up the loose change and picking up the wallet before standing up, walking in front of the man.

“Thank you, young man, most kind.”

“My pleasure,” Harry said shyly, stepping back into line as he watched the man’s shaky hand try to push his wallet back into his coat pocket. Harry smiled at the woman behind the counter, and began to place his order. “Good morning, can I have a bacon baguette please, and a bacon and egg baguette, no sauce on either? Thanks.” Harry collected the money from his own wallet and held it out, stilling when he realised what he’d done. “Oh. Uh, could you cancel the bacon and egg one, please? Sorry, uh, habit…” His cheeks flushed and he felt a twinge at his tummy at his mistake.

The lady nodded quietly and adjusted the total, accepting the money and handing Harry his change before she swept off, cardigan billowing behind her, slowly preparing the food. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, wondering why he’d made such a slip. It had been a long time since he’d bought something for Louis by accident. In the first few weeks, he was forever throwing things into the trolley at Tesco he wouldn’t ever eat, before he got home and realised he’d done it again. Ge’d bought things he usually bought for Louis. Louis, who wasn’t going to be home for another year. It had happened at the checkout too. Harry had embarrassingly broken down on the self-checkout operator's shoulder at his mistake. He hadn’t been able to go back since.

But somehow, he didn't cry. It hurt, of course it did. He missed Louis so much, even now. Even six months on. But he was halfway now, and things were easing. This was becoming his normal. Harry wasn’t sure whether this was a good thing or not, that he was slowly but surely adjusting to life without his boyfriend but still, as Louis’ beautiful tattoo proclaimed…  _ It Is What It Is.  _ Harry stepped forward when the lady called his order, accepting with a smile and a soft 'thank you so much,', and hung the bag from his fingers, heading back home. As he walked, he text Louis, telling him what he’d done, ending it with a smiley emoji, so Louis knew he wasn’t too sad.

Harry swung the bag from his hand as he walked, shoving his other hand deep into his pocket. He was so used to holding Louis on the other side of him, his other hand swallowing the small size of Louis’, fitting perfectly together as always. His mind drifted off to the last time he’d felt Louis’ hand in his own, sliding away as he’d stepped onto the train, the train that would send him to the airport, and ultimately, hundreds and thousands of miles away from Harry's side.

_ “Have you got everything, Lou? You sure?” _

_ “Yeah, think so. You triple checked my bag last night, so I’m relying on your organising skills here,” Louis said through a smile, nuzzling his cheek in Harry’s hoodie. Harry didn't mind that Louis had stolen another out of his drawers that morning, slipping it on over his head, rolling the sleeves back a little so he could actually use his hands. “Shit, I’m nervous now it’s actually here. I’m going to miss you much, Haz.” _

_ “You have no idea how much I’m gonna miss you, Lou. But promise me you’ll call me all the time, send me loads of photos? Don’t want to forget your beautiful face.” _

_ “Couldn’t even if you wanted to,” Louis quipped, tugging Harry down into a quick kiss. “Don’t you forget me, either, hey?” _

_ “Never,” Harry replied, pulling his necklace out of his hoodie, holding it up so Louis could see it. “Got this on, and I won’t take it off. Promise. I love you.” _

_ “I love you too.” They just held each other as the minutes ticked by, the sign hanging from the platform displaying that the train was due in three minutes. Harry wished that the three minutes could last forever, but knew that was of course impossible. He sighed, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair, enjoying how soft the strands felt between his fingers. He looked up when he heard a metallic screech, and his heart suddenly felt heavy when he realised this was it. Louis was going to get on that train and be taken from him. _

_ “Louis, god, please, for god sakes be safe. Okay? Look after yourself, and call me before you take off, and when you land. Please? Fuck, I love you, I love you so much-” his breath hitched as a lump caught in his throat, tears brimming in his eyes. Louis stepped back and cupped Harry’s face in his hands, kissing him as if his life depended on it. The train glided to a halt in front of them, and the beeps sounded as the doors silently slid open, inviting the passengers on board. _

_ Harry watched as commuters piled off, and he reluctantly followed Louis, kissing him one more time before Louis held his hand, kissing the back of it gently. “I love you, Harry. I’ll be home soon, I promise. I love you.” _

_ “Not soon enough. I love you, too. Go and see the world, Louis, my love.” He dropped Louis’ hand as he stepped away, and watched Louis’ hands wrap around the straps of his rucksack, his feet stepping carefully onto the train. Louis stood in the doorway, looking out of the window as the doors slid shut in front of him. Harry didn't bother to hold back the tears, and Louis clearly thought the same, tears travelling in rivers down both of their cheeks. Louis’ hand came up to the glass, and Harry reached out to graze his fingers against it before a whistle blew, warning of the train’s imminent departure. _

_ Harry wanted to scream. He wanted to yell, to bash on the doors, to beg Louis not to go. Instead, he stood and watched, tears streaming down his face, dripping wetly off his chin, as the train began to move. Harry stood motionless, fixed to the ground, body filled with nothing but pain. He’d told Louis to go. He’d told him to go and explore the world. It didn't occur to him until this very second that his whole world was on that train, being taken away from him. Louis was going to explore the world, but Harry had lost his. _

Sitting at the table with his bacon baguette wasn’t the same without Louis cursing at the television, or mocking the soppy messages being read out on Steve Wright’s Sunday Love Songs that Harry insisted upon listening to on Radio 2. Harry knew that secretly, Louis loved it, and hoped one day, Louis might actually send his own message in for Harry to hear. He chewed on the bread slowly, eventually wrapping the remainder of it up and throwing it in the bin. Even simple things had lost their charm without Louis around.

_ ~*~ _

Harry slammed his phone down onto the table, stalking out of the room before he did something silly like throw it at the wall, or launch it out of the window. He’d tried to call Louis, again, to no avail, and he was getting more and more worried. It had been weeks since he’d last heard from his boyfriend. They’d spoken fifteen days ago, a lovely conversation late into the night, Harry curled up under the covers of their bed, Louis' t-shirt wrapped around his body. They worked out it had been nearly eight long months since Louis had left, and Harry had listened intently as Louis talked about everything he’d been up to, describing things so beautifully, so vividly that they came to life in Harry’s mind, where he lay on Louis’ side of the bed to stay close to him.

He calmed himself down and returned to the room, once again sending out a message, begging Louis to get in contact, even if it was just to say he was okay, that things were just busy but he was alive, and living happily wherever he was. That thought made Harry more sad, made the ache in his heart even more present… that he actually didn't know in that moment where in the world Louis was. He could be anywhere, something could be wrong, and Harry had no way of knowing. The message ticked over as being delivered, but it didn't register as being read. Harry stuffed the phone onto the top shelf of his bookcase and walked to the kitchen, grabbing the hoover from the utility cupboard.

He moved angrily around the house, cleaning harder than he ever had in his life, pushing worries and fears about Louis to the back of his mind, as much as he could. He trudged upstairs with the hoover in hand, and proceeded to push it around their bedroom, too. Louis’ side of the room was too clean, and Harry hated it. He might have got used to Louis not being around, but it was these signs of Louis that he missed. The piles of dirty clothes, the stray socks at the end of the sofa where he took them off when he was watching telly late into the night, the dirty dishes piled in the sink because Louis seemed to think they magically washed themselves.

By bedtime, Harry was out of his mind. He knew it was his own fault, that he’d worked himself into a state, but it had been twelve hours since he’d last text Louis, and still, there had been no reply. He was tearful, in more of an emotional state than he’d been in for months. He was stuck in a spiral he didn't know how to get out of. It felt like the walls of his house were closing in, that Louis was slipping away from him, that he’d lost the man he loved more than any other human being in the world.

In a fit of emotion, Harry snatched his phone up and yanked out the charger cable, scrolling through his contacts with shaking fingers. He stopped when he reached the L’s, stopping at Louis’ name. He pressed the contact and the screen flooded with the white contact screen, Louis’ beautiful face appearing in a circle at the top of the page, a photo Harry remembered taking years ago. He’d never been able to bring himself to change it. To him, it summed up Louis perfectly.

He hit the button, almost crying with relief when the phone rang, the international dialling tone still sounding odd to Harry's ears. It was yet another reminder Louis was far away of him, out of reach in so many ways. Harry held his breath, praying Louis would be pick up. He didn't. Harry hung up and quickly redialled, thinking Louis might pick up if Harry was incessant, that he might worry something was wrong. It was on the third call that Harry decided to leave a message, believing that Louis had to know what he was doing to him.

“L-Louis, it’s me. It’s Harry. I, uh, I haven’t heard from you for so long. Weeks. I hate it, I hate not hearing your voice, or seeing your face. I… Louis, I miss you. I want you to come home, I’m not sure I can bear another four months of this hell. It feels wrong, being apart. We’re meant to be together. We are. And you’re not here. You’re not by my side, in our home, our bed. I want you, Louis, I want you back here, in my arms, I-” He choked back a sob then, crying into the pillow for a moment before he gathered himself, speaking again.

“Louis, I’m scared. I’m scared you being away means you’ve decided we aren’t enough anymore, that there’s more out there for you… that I’m not what you want. And I’m so scared because you will always,  _ always _ be enough for me, Lou. You’re everything, you know that? Louis, I can’t lose you.” He paused, sniffing as the tears continued to stream down his cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath him. “I know I told you to go. I know. It was the stupidest, and the worst thing I’ve ever said. Because while I want you to be happy, I just… I want you to be happy with me. Not miles away from me. “

“Please, call me, Louis. Even if it’s just to say you’re okay, that you’re well and having fun. Even if-” Harry felt sick at this, but he knew he had to say it, that Louis had to know one way or the other how Harry felt. “-even if it’s to say goodbye. If you’ve found someone else, someone who makes you happy… just, just tell me, please? I just want you to know. I need to be able to say goodbye. I- I’m so sorry, Louis, I never should’ve let you go.” He sobbed loudly then and his fingers fumbled with the screen, ending the call. 

They were over, that much he was sure of. Why wouldn’t Louis have contacted him if he still loved him? Had he found another man, another one who showed Louis affection, held him while he slept, just like Harry used to? All because Harry tried to be unselfish and let Louis live, let Louis travel and be free. Had he lost the most precious thing he’d ever had the privilege to call his own? Harry was sure he had, and the thought simply broke his heart all over again.

~*~

Harry had refused the offer of joining his colleagues for lunch. They’d all been eager for him to come, sending him annoying but sweet little messages through the work messaging service, trying to cheer him up. Since the emotional voicemail he’d left for Louis nearly two weeks ago now, Harry had found it hard to lose himself in anything. He moved through the days in a bit of a fog. He still hadn’t heard from Louis, at all. His Twitter and Facebook accounts remained updated. It felt to Harry that Louis had disappeared off the face of the Earth, and if it weren’t for the physical reminders of Louis’ former presence, Harry might believe that Louis only lived in his imagination, never destined to be part of the real world, alongside him.

But even in Harry’s darkest, most despairing moments, he knew what this was. This was Louis’ way of saying goodbye, his way of stepping out of one life and into another, leaving them all in his past. Harry just wasn’t sure he would ever be able to catch up, that he could go on without Louis. He’d always pictured them growing old together, watching a gaggle of grandchildren run around the lawn, Louis frustrating him as he got under Harry’s feet, like nothing had changed. But everything had. He’d lost Louis. He was lost without him.

Without realising it, Harry had wandered into the park, to his and Louis’ bench. Realistically, he knew it wasn’t his and Louis’. It was a public bench, just some pieces of wood nailed together, overlooking the space, a place for young and old, for romance, for fun and laughter. Harry wondered absentmindedly if he’d ever want to laugh again. He settled down on it, crossed his legs at the ankles and stared out. It was cold. His breath was coming out in little puffs, disappearing as quickly as they’d come, another replacing it almost immediately. It reminded Harry of when Louis had smoked, how he’d spent hours on YouTube trying to learn how to blow smoke rings. He’d never cracked it.

Harry watched as a couple, arm in arm, walked down the path together. They looked so in love. It was in the slight incline of the woman’s head as she stared at her lover, the way he tilted down almost imperceptibly, so he could hear every word that fell from her lips, as if each word were one to be treasured. Their steps were in sync, everything about them screamed togetherness. Harry felt so alone. He had had that, once upon a time. At moments like this, it felt like a lifetime ago now. 

“Can I sit here?”

Harry stilled, eyes fixed into the distance. He knew the voice, he did. But there was no way. It couldn’t be. Not now. Not after everything. He blinked and focused on the couple again, how they moved together, how he threw his head back in laughter whenever she said something, her hair fluttering in the icy wind. He focused then on the grass in front of him, crunchy with morning frost, where the sun hadn’t yet worked her magic to melt it away, not yet touched by its brilliance.

“Harry? Can I- please can I sit down?”

Harry bit his lip, eyes filling with tears. It was real, part of him knew that, but then he was scared that it wasn’t. That in just a matter of seconds, it would all disappear and he’d be alone again. It was almost too much to bear. Instead, he did the only thing he could do. Slowly, with fear in his veins, and hope in his heart, he turned. He was there. Louis. He was there. It was real. He couldn’t speak. It was too much.

Slowly, Louis sat next to him, bags still at his feet. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. Part of Harry hoped that was the case, that Louis was as sad, as full of grief and loss as he was, that this was hurting him as much as Harry was hurting. But the bigger part of Harry, the part that was so deeply, so irrevocably in love with Louis, wanted to scoop him into his arms and hold him close forever, to protect him, and to love him. To make him Harry’s again. Despite all this, Harry couldn’t bring himself to speak.

He kept looking out over the park. He could sense Louis next to him, could feel his warmth, could see the puffs of air coming out of his mouth with every breath. He was real, that much he was sure of. But Harry didn't know how to feel about. Was he back for good? Was he coming back just to break it off properly, to get ready to jet off with his new love? Harry wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.

“What are you doing here, Louis?” Instead of the anger he expected to speak with, it came out of his mouth with a weary tone, as if the words make Harry hurt to say. That wasn’t too far from the truth. As much as he needed to know why Louis was back, he didn't actually  _ want _ to know. If Louis never said the words, then it meant it wasn’t real. 

“I know I’m early. I know you weren’t expecting for a few more months, but Harry… I didn't want to be away anymore. I wanted to come home. To you. I couldn’t stand being half a world away.”

Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. As much as he thought he’d made the right decision in setting Louis free, in letting him see the world, maybe it wasn’t really what Louis had wanted after all. But now he was, and what? Harry was supposed to just pretend the past eight months hadn’t happened? That Louis hadn’t ignored for the fast weeks weeks, dropping off the face of the earth, out of existence?

“But Louis… you didn't, you didn't call or text. You didn't contact me. There was nothing. I … I thought something had happened, that, that you were hurt, or …” Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words aloud. They were too painful to contemplate, let alone voice aloud. He risked a glance at Louis, and what he saw was enough to make him feel more pain. Louis looked broken. He looked tired, but this was more than that. This was an innate sadness that Harry knew Louis was feeling deep inside. Without really thinking, Harry reached out and took Louis’ hand, holding it as Louis began to speak, his voice soft and quiet, as if he were thinking every word through.

“I tried so hard to be strong, Harry, without you. I thought, at first, anyway, that I could do it. That I could leave you at home while I lived my dream, saw the world. But I wasn’t strong. Not really. I don’t think I realised how much I needed you until… until you weren’t there anymore. I was in the middle of groups of people, surrounded by happy faces everywhere I went but … I was so alone. I was lost. I was lost without you, love.” Harry kept his gaze on the ground, but his fingers remained wrapped around Louis’.

“With hindsight, Harry, I never should’ve gone. I talked myself into it, that this is what I wanted, what Mum would’ve wanted me to. But it wasn’t. Not really. I’d have loved for you to have come, but stupidly, I left you behind. My home. My safehaven. I… I can never be more sorry about that. But I’m more sorry that I hurt you, that I let you, for even a second, think that I could ever find anybody else. Because there’s no way, okay? Never. You’re the one for me.”

“It was too hard to message you. I knew how sad you were from your calls and your texts. You lost your spark, love. Every picture broke my heart a little more, knowing I’d done that to you. So many times, I just wanted to come home but I forced myself to go on, told myself we could get through this. It hurt too much to hear you so broken, so I just… stopped.”

Louis’ voice faded out as Harry let the words sink in, let them embed themselves in his brain. He could see Louis’ lips moving out of the corner of his eye, his free gesticulating as he spoke, cheeks red with the cold wind. No doubt it felt colder to Louis, the complete antithesis of the climates he’d returned from. 

“... but I’m home, and I’m never leaving again, okay? Ever since I got that voicemail… I’ve been fighting to get home. I spent every last penny I had on a flight back, and there were delays and … it was hell, but it was worth every second, because it brought me back to you … right where I want to be. Don’t ever tell me to go again, because I only want to be here, with you. I am so, so, sorry, Harry.”

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. It was all too much, too sudden, too out of the blue. Everything he’d dreamt of for the past eight months was right here in front of him, and he was powerless to act. 

“Harry… love, are you okay? Do you…” Louis cut off then, his chin wobbling as he clearly struggled to hold himself together. He spoke again, but this time, his voice was small, as if he were afraid to say the words, afraid of the answer they might evoke from Harry. “Do you hate me?”

“Hate you? Louis… I-” Harry didn't bother with words. Instead, he let his body express what he was feeling. He turned and his hands finally touched Louis’ cheeks, holding him gently as he stared deep into the blue eyes that were as familiar to him as his own. He guided Louis’ face towards his own, their warm breath mingling in the cool November air, hearts racing in anticipation of what was to come.

Kissing was something they’d done countless times before, since their first kiss when they were fifteen years old, unsure and scared, but so happy with how they felt, how they just knew it was right. They’d kissed at home, tucked under the covers while their parents were out; under the stars when they’d camped in the garden; on a beach when they’d saved enough money to treat themselves to a cheap beach holiday in Spain, full of the excitement that the first holiday without their parents could bring; kissed in their own bed, whispering words of adoration as they made love to each other in the middle of the night.

But this kiss? This felt like the first one all over again. Every ounce of love Harry felt for this man in front of him, he put into that kiss. His hands didn't stray from Louis’ face, as if he were afraid he might vanish if he let go. Harry’s kisses were tender, gentle and loving, soft movements of his lips brushing Louis’, just enough to allow Harry to believe this was real. He pulled away after a few seconds, his eyes opening again in disbelief.

“You’re really here,” he breathed out, stroking his thumb back and forth over Louis’ stubble as Louis smiled, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I am. I’m never leaving again. I promise. I only want to be lost with you, love, never without you. I love you, I love you so much.” Louis surged forwards then, kissing Harry desperately, as if he needed him to understand that he meant it, that every word was true. Harry could feel his cheeks getting wet and realised both of them were crying again, emotions too much to keep inside. 

“I love you, and only you, Louis,” Harry mumbled, letting Louis kiss him again. Harry’s hands began to roam across Louis' torso slowly, touching him, wanting to make sure he was real, that this wasn't only a figment of his imagination. He only pulled back when his lips were sore, when he was breathless from kissing. “Louis, will you … Louis, come home? With me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Louis replied so quietly, Harry almost missed it. Louis quickly kissed Harry again before he stepped away and picked up his bag, flinging it over his shoulder as he held a hand out for Harry to take, which he did. Louis’ delicate yet sturdy fingers wrapped around his own hand, and Harry shivered slightly, immediately being wrapped in a feeling of warmth, a feeling that, no matter where they were, as long as he had Louis, he’d always be home.

~*~

Just an hour later, Harry and Louis were walking in through their front door. Harry had called his office and explained that Louis had returned from his travels early to surprise him, and he’d laughed as he’d heard the girls in the office coo down the line, some calling it ‘the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!’. 

They’d held hands as they’d walked the entire way home, ignoring Harry’s car which he’d left at the office, or the buses that ran that route. Harry had held onto Louis like he might disappear again, still disbelieving that this was real, that Louis was actually here. The warmth of his hand in his own was his grounding touch, and Harry had had to keep stopping and kissing Louis to prove to himself this was actually happening, that Louis was home, for him.

He’d mumbled words of love as they’d stumbled home together, bundled up against the cold. As they turned into the road, Louis had sighed in relief at the familiarity of his surroundings, at finally being where he truly wanted to be. Harry had removed his front door key from his pocket with shaking fingers, and had smiled back over his shoulder at Louis, fumbling with the lock a few times until the key slid into place, the door swinging open with a soft creak.

Harry moved aside to let Louis in first, picking up the post that was sat on the doormat as he watched his boyfriend move through the hallway, a wide grin on his face.

“It’s not changed,” he remarked with a smile, hanging his coat from the hood on the banister as he always did, despite the presence of a perfectly functioning coat rack attached to the wall beside him. “You have no idea how happy I am to be home, but I feel disgusting. Do you, uh…”

“Do I what, Lou?” Harry whispered, coming up behind Louis and wrapping his arms around his waist, burying his face into the smaller man’s cool neck. His heart was thudding in his chest again, completely mesmerised by the feel of Louis' body against his, the sight of Louis back where he belonged, at Harry's side, in their house, in their hallway. It oddly felt as if he'd never left, that the past eight months had been a strange sort of dream, one Harry was more than willing to forget.

“Do you wanna shower with me? Then we can cuddle, and talk some more?” Harry just nodded, and kissed Louis’ cheek before he stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching Louis dart up them, spritely on his feet despite his earlier protestations of being exhausted. With a content sigh, Harry turned around and kicked off his work shoes, grinning at something he’d perhaps missed more than any other. He crouched down, and with a heart full of love and promise for the future, he reached to straighten up his own shoes before his hands settled on Louis’ Vans, left in a messy heap as always, straightening them up next to his own. Louis was home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you liked it! Please do share the [Twitter post](https://twitter.com/oneolddirection/status/1055793543619493888) or the [Tumblr post](https://chloehl10.tumblr.com/post/179448821141/lost-without-you-by-lovelarry10-words-9230-louis) if you did, so others can enjoy it too. xx


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